


Here

by waterbird13



Series: Tumblr Fics [88]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Family of Choice, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pre series, Shitty Families, Teen Angst, actual caretaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 19:31:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7653904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam always feels like he's being left behind. His family doesn't want him, he's a burden.</p><p>Pastor Jim doesn't see him that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here

**Author's Note:**

> This is another fic from Tumblr.
> 
> Warnings include: this is pre-series, Sam is angsty and upset, it's hurt/comfort, it is not positive about John and Dean.

“Sam,” Pastor Jim says mildly. “I understand your frustration, but that does belong to a community member. Put it down.”

Sam sets the hammer down almost reluctantly. “You don’t,” he says. “Understand.”

“Explain it to me, then,” Pastor Jim says, crossing his arms and coming closer so he’s right in front of Sam.

“They just…left me,” Sam grunts. “Again.”

Pastor Jim raises an eyebrow. “I was under the impression you’d rather go to school.”

Sam’s hand closes around the hammer again, although he doesn’t pick it up. He can’t help it. He’s sixteen and they’re either dragging him places he doesn’t want to be, making him do things he doesn’t want to do, or, worse, giving him what he wants, but in such a way to ensure he knows it’s not because he wants it. Sam’s life has turned into a tug-of-war between these two unsettling extremes. He hates it all, and wanting to hit something isn’t exactly unusual.

“I do,” Sam says. “Did. Do. But they…they just dump me, and it’s not so I can get a damn education.”

“Why, then?” Jim asks.

“Because they can’t fucking stand me there,” Sam says, and if he weren’t going off the rails he’s know better, he wouldn’t swear like this in front of Pastor Jim, even if John does it all the time. Maybe especially because John does it all the time. “They think I can’t hack it, that I get in the way. That’s why they leave me.”

“Have they told you that?” Jim asks.

Sam knows Pastor Jim is expecting the answer to be no, to be conjecture, to be able to tell Sam it’s all in his head and that Sam needs to get a grip on himself.

Sam’s family is a shitshow. Always bound to disappoint.

“Yeah,” he says. “They have. Dean keeps saying I need work and if I’d just focus, if I’d just give up everything and, you know, worship at the church of John fucking Winchester, then I’d be decent. And Dad keeps saying I’ll get Dean killed, the way Dean has to worry about my sorry ass. They make sure to remind me why I’m not invited, and it’s not so I can get my damn education.”

Pastor Jim sucks in a breath. “I’m sorry about that, Sam,” he says. “Sometimes…”

“Sometimes people have weird ways of showing the love each other?” Sam jeers. “Sometimes people just can’t say what they really feel and say crap instead? Sometimes God works in mysterious ways?”

“No,” Jim says. “Sometimes, people behave like shit.”

That manages to jolt a broken chuckle out of Sam. “You said it, not me,” he says.

“And I stand by it,” he says firmly. “Sam, for what it’s worth, you’re always welcome here. And not because I don’t trust you in the field or don’t think you’re worth the effort. You can go to school here, or not. Be happy here. You’re always welcome here because you deserve a place to go.”

Sam’s long since forgotten the hammer. “Thank you,” he says quietly, ashamed now. “God, did I break anything…I can fix it, or, or…work to replace it, whatever it is.”

“It’s not too bad, Sam,” Jim says soothingly. “And it’s not a big deal. Nothing we can’t deal with. Right now, I’m more focused on you.”

All the energy seems to have drained from Sam. “I’m fine,” he says emptily.

“Not quite,” Pastor Jim says. “But maybe some rest. You look like you could use it. Couch or bed?”

“Couch,” Sam concedes, and goes to lie down.

Jim lies an old afghan over him, likely knitted by an elderly parishioner and given as a Christmas gift, smoothing the blanket down. “Get some rest,” he says. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”


End file.
